


All the world's a stage

by minkhollow



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types, Persona 3, Persona Series
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-07-14 02:34:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16031189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minkhollow/pseuds/minkhollow
Summary: Haruhi barely has time for the Host Club, and definitely doesn't have time for a weird supernatural phenomenon cropping up where the club room should be.  Too bad that's what's happening anyway.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is entirely my roommate's fault. She put the Ouran anime on a few weeks back and my brain took it from there. I am advised she regrets nothing.
> 
> Alternate summaries include 'we're all trapped in a maze of relationships' and 'Haruhi's life is a goddamned mess.'
> 
> Mechanics-wise, I'm overlaying Persona Nonsense onto the Host Club's existing nonsense; it's somewhere between P4's dungeons and Futaba's Palace in P5, and awakenings aren't as harrowing as the late-purse games tend toward (Ouran's just... not that dark). I have a couple cameos other than Igor in mind.
> 
> Oh, and I'm committing timeline jiggery to line Ouran's timeline up with P4, for Reasons.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You realise, of course, that if you've broken the club room, that'll be added to your debt."

Haruhi stares at the tangled maze on the other side of the door. This was supposed to be the music room the Host Club’s commandeered. It _should_ be the music room. The sign _says_ it’s the music room.

So why does it look like someone gutted not only the room, but several floors surrounding it, and tried to build a hamster run? More importantly, when would they have had the time?

Haruhi’s probably gaping, but can’t be bothered to care. No doubt Tamaki-senpai or one of the other guys will come along and explain that this is a totally normal extension of whatever today’s cosplay theme is, and somehow, in that moment, it’ll make as much sense as anything else. Never mind that this kind of construction would not only do the school a ridiculous amount of structural damage, but attract all kinds of attention during the school day.

“Hmm.”

Haruhi jumps, not sure when Kyoya-senpai got there – but there he is, adjusting his glasses and peering into the space that should be the club room with a slight frown. So much for thinking the guys could explain it, then.

“You realise, of course,” he says, “that if you’ve broken the club room, that’ll be added to your debt.”

Haruhi sputters, attempting to glare at Kyoya-senpai (it probably doesn’t work, but it’s the effort that counts, maybe). “I didn’t ‘break’ _anything_ this time. All I did was open the door, and this was already there!” And really, even that stupid vase was an accident. Kyoya-senpai’s taking this all way too seriously.

“Well then. In that case, we should see what Tamaki has planned this time.”

“You don’t even know?”

Kyoya-senpai sighs. “It’s rare, but he does occasionally get something past me. Usually, the end result is… not optimal. Shall we?”

There’s no getting out of going into the hamster run that’s taken over the club room with company there, as much as Haruhi doesn’t want to. It looks disorienting enough from the outside, and it’s almost certainly going to eat into time better spent studying. Bad enough that the Host Club itself is already doing that.

Still, people will be upset if the Host Club’s room has been eaten by… whatever this is. The last thing any of them need is Tamaki-senpai going into dramatics over this, on the off chance it somehow wasn’t his idea after all. And if nothing else, Haruhi has a compelling financial motive to dig into this anomaly (and free time to reclaim).

“We might as well, I guess.”

The door disappears as soon as they’ve both stepped through it (because of course it does), and Haruhi is completely disoriented in less than a minute. The riot of translucent, tinted plastic makes it next to impossible to tell which way is forward, what tubes connect to each other, or how to get out.

Despite that, it almost feels… familiar, like a dream Haruhi had the other night, with a blue-tinted theatre and a man with an entirely too-long nose. Haruhi doesn’t _want_ it to feel familiar. The long-nosed man promised a flurry of activity, and the Host Club is eating into too much of Haruhi’s free time as it is. More complications aren’t going to help matters – unfortunately, it looks like the complications had other ideas.

They usually do.

Whenever they’re presented with a simple fork in the tubes, Haruhi veers to the right – and then stops dead when they reach a fork with five branches. That makes figuring out where to go even more puzzling than it already was.

It would for most people, anyway, but Kyoya-senpai looks at the branches for all of about five seconds before pointing one out. “We want the green one.”

“How do you know that?”

“I wish I knew.” True to his word, he sounds annoyed that he _can’t_ pinpoint it. Still, they take the green path until it eventually dead-ends at a mirror that blocks the entirety of their path forward.

Haruhi sighs. “Are you _sure_ this was the right way?”

“He’s right.”

If nothing else can be said for the day, Haruhi gets to see Kyoya-senpai look surprised (barely, but he sure does) before whirling around to face the mirror again. Haruhi’s reflection – if it can still be called a reflection when it has yellow eyes and seems to be moving independently – is smiling. “You needed to come here in order to move forward. You wish to help others, do you not?”

Haruhi frowns. “Well, yes, but that’s why I’m studying so hard. Or would be, if things didn’t keep imposing on my free time.”

“To help others, you must first understand more than yourself,” the reflection says. “The tools to do so are on offer all around you, both here and in the club proper. If you don’t take the time to learn now, when will you?”

It’s an angle Haruhi hadn’t really considered before… but damn if it doesn’t make sense. The Host Club is really the most ingenious thing Tamaki-senpai could have thought to start, in a school full of children expected to take leadership of their family’s holdings or go start their own powerful dynasties. Haruhi’s learned more about networking in the last two weeks than in the two _years_ before that. Being able to charm the socks off people would be a useful skill for a lawyer to have.

Haruhi would still very much rather do all this time-consuming work in college, or maybe after, when grades aren’t on the line. But the opportunities are here now, even if how a hamster maze eating the club room ties into that isn’t readily apparent. Who’s to say the chance will come again?

“Suppose I do take… whatever it is you’re offering,” Haruhi finally says. “What do I get in return?”

The reflection _grins_. “In return for your time, attention, and responsibility for your actions, you will receive the means to help with a host of problems that would otherwise be beyond your reach.”

“A ‘host,’ huh.” Part of Haruhi still wants nothing to do with this, especially after that pun – but on another level, it feels right in a way not much else has since Mom died. “All right. What do I need to do?”

“Touch the mirror,” the reflection says, lifting one hand to do the same, “and all will be revealed.”

Haruhi kind of doubts it’ll be that easy, but moves to touch the mirror anyway; it dissolves almost instantly, coalescing into a humanoid figure made of leaded stained glass. The figure’s wearing a weird mishmash of historical Western clothing – the top looks like something Haruhi’s seen on old paintings of men, but the bottom half of the figure’s outfit is a voluminous skirt.

 _Portia_. That’s its name. But somehow, Haruhi wouldn’t be surprised if it also answered to Balthazar.

The figure disappears, leaving Haruhi holding a lead-lined mask to match it, and practically buzzing with anticipation – of what, Haruhi couldn’t begin to say, but it’s there nonetheless. It’s like holding untapped power, somehow, really weird and really good all at once.

“That was interesting,” Kyoya-senpai says (Haruhi had nearly forgotten he was there, in all that excitement). “I’d like to know why the mirror didn’t reflect me.”

Haruhi sighs. “ _That’s_ your question?”

He doesn’t explain (because of course he doesn’t), instead starting down the cleared path. “One of them. Maybe we’ve cleared a way back to the club room.”

They haven’t, or at least if they have, it’s not readily apparent. Not only that, but at the first intersection past the mirror, an amorphous black blob with a mask attached to it rises out of the floor. Haruhi freezes, then moves almost on instinct, slapping the mask on and almost immediately pulling it off – and then everything is engulfed in blue fire.

When the flames subside, Haruhi’s completely fine, and Portia/Balthazar is hovering nearby. That feeling of anticipation is even stronger, but it takes Haruhi a moment to figure out how to direct it. Haruhi takes a smack from the blob before managing to blast it away, quite literally.

“Hmm. Wind elemental damage,” Kyoya-senpai says; Haruhi sighs. If taking notes on attacks really makes him feel better, there’s no sense in arguing about it.

The pattern continues throughout the next several intersections – a blob menaces them, Haruhi takes it out, Kyoya-senpai hangs back and takes notes like this is no different from any other afternoon in the Host Club. By the time they encounter another blocked intersection, Haruhi’s exhausted, and frankly glad for the break. If nothing else could attack them for the next… possibly ever, that would be great.

Even better, though, at this mirror Haruhi gets treated to a very rare sight: Kyoya-senpai at a complete loss as to what to do, staring at the mirror and his yellow-eyed reflection in a mix of curiosity and shock. These mirrors _are_ strange in what they reflect; Haruhi was too caught up in the experience to notice last time, but it’s obvious now that they’re only reflecting one person at a time.

Of course, that assumes they’re actually reflecting anything at all. These are pretty clearly not normal mirrors, any more than this is a normal hamster maze.

“You’re early,” the reflection says, “but then, I suppose we simply can’t abide sitting idly by and letting everyone else learn what’s going on first.”

“It would be inefficient. And if this comes to encompass the others, as you suggest, they’d be hopeless without appropriate backup.”

“True. It’s fitting, isn’t it, that we should meet as you’re on the cusp of reclaiming your stolen birthright.”

Kyoya-senpai frowns. “I don’t know that I would call it stolen, as such.”

“You would. What greater theft than that of any opportunity to truly prove yourself? Why else would you have begun building your own connections? Are you truly going to deny you need all the power you can get now, of all times?”

“I think we all know the answer to that question.” Kyoya-senpai steps up to the mirror – probably with more confidence than Haruhi had, but then, he got to watch Haruhi do this first – and touches it. The figure that appears looks like a cross between a proper fantasy-novel wizard and a tree; it’s carrying a book, for some reason.

Once the figure disappears, Kyoya-senpai smiles. “I know where the way out is.”

“You do? How? More to the point, where?”

“Prospero will show us the way. He probably was the whole time, but less effectively before we got to this point.” Sure enough, he leads the way through the hamster maze, neatly sidestepping any more attack blobs, and gets them back to a completely ordinary-looking door; the door deposits them back in the school’s hallway, where Haruhi promptly slumps against the wall, utterly worn out.

“Okay, that was… weird.”

Kyoya-senpai nods, but he doesn’t look nearly as surprised as Haruhi would have expected. “It was. I think I have a phone call to make tonight.”

Haruhi musters up the energy to gape at him. “I – you can’t _possibly_ have a contact that would know anything about this! I mean, how would you even start that conversation? ‘Hello, contact-san, my school club room got eaten by a hamster maze full of monsters, please advise’? Who’s going to believe that?”

“Don’t underestimate the depth of my network, Haruhi.”

“That’s not an answer!” Haruhi protests, but of course, Kyoya-senpai doesn’t elaborate.

***

Haruhi gets home, finds some leftovers to eat, and collapses into bed almost immediately after eating. Even studying would be far too much effort after all the excitement this afternoon, and that’s usually no strain at all.

The blue dream theatre coming back almost isn’t a surprise. The weird long-nosed guy – Igor, was it? – has his desk set up at dead center stage again, but this time he has company, in the form of an androgynous blonde dressed to match the theatre’s decor.

“Welcome to the Velvet Room,” Igor says. “I would like to resume our previous conversation, if you are more amenable at this time.”

Haruhi sighs. “The hamster maze business isn’t going to go anywhere if I do nothing, is it.”

“An astute observation. However, many times, those who require my assistance need to see their new circumstance before they believe it. Your reluctance the first time we spoke is quite understandable. I simply ask that you take full responsibility for your actions – a traditional request of those in your position – and in exchange, you will have my assistance in seeing to the needs of those around you.”

Haruhi still doesn’t really see how running around a hamster maze full of monsters is going to accomplish anything the Host Club doesn’t do already, but that’s probably a question better asked another time. Maybe it’ll become clear later anyway; right now, it’s certainly impossible to say. “I like to think I’m pretty responsible, so that shouldn’t be a problem. Who’s your friend?”

“Ah, my apologies. This is Shelley, my assistant. As I am pulled between this and another matter, at present, you may see more of them than you do myself.”

Well, that name cleared up nothing at all. Haruhi studies Shelley for a moment, taking note of their unusual eyes (burnished gold, but thankfully not quite the eerie yellow the mirror reflections were sporting), then decides to double down and ask. “Forgive me if this is rude, but… are you a man or a woman?”

Shelley simply raises an eyebrow. “Are _you_ a man or a woman?”

“…Okay, that’s fair.” Given everything that led to the Host Club situation in the first place, Haruhi can’t really argue that one, and doesn’t want to, either. It’s everyone else who seems to think the distinction is that simple.

“We will discuss the details of the arrangement another time,” Igor says. “For now, take this, and return to your rest.”

The last thing Haruhi clearly remembers of the dream is being handed a blue and gold key. The weird part is that Haruhi wakes up still holding it.

***

Kyoya doesn’t usually allow himself the luxury of a nap after school, but today strikes him as a good exception. He has plenty of things he needs to do, but he also doesn’t normally exert himself in the manner needed to contend with that maze. He can only hope he’ll get used to it, as this progresses.

After the nap, he does some homework, then turns his attention to his personal project. Over time, he’s managed to turn his allowance and a meager handful of shares, given to him by his father with hopes of imparting a lesson in fiscal responsibility, into a rather substantial nest egg. If nothing else, he feels better knowing that he has a contingency plan, should the worst happen.

The same need for contingencies drives him, after dinner, to pull up an old contact on his phone. They haven’t spoken in quite some time – her family moved on to what they believed was a more suitable marriage prospect, and the crisis that brought their companies together for professional reasons ended rather abruptly last spring – but she was the one who told Kyoya that Apathy Syndrome did not have a medical cause. That alone was reason enough for Kyoya to save her number.

The irony here is that when Haruhi predicted how this conversation would unfold, she was at least partly right.

“Otori. It’s been some time. How may I help you?”

Kyoya smiles. “Hello, Kirijo-san. This afternoon, our club room was supplanted by what I have very good reason to believe is a cognitive anomaly. I think we’re going to have need of your particular stripe of expertise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every good Persona team needs a theme, and here that theme is Shakespeare. Haruhi's is the leading lady in Merchant of Venice, who crossdresses in order to pose as a lawyer and save her husband's ass from trouble. Kyoya, meanwhile, is the world's earliest 'dedicated navigator purse' with Prospero of The Tempest - pulling strings in the background to reclaim his stolen birthright. (Emperor Arcana, because of course he is.)
> 
> I am not sure how quickly there might be more of this, but there probably will, at some point.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I could've sworn we were in a shoujo anime, not a video game."

“If you didn’t awaken to a navigation-focused Persona, I will eat my coat.”

Great. Now Kirijo Mitsuru is laughing at him. Still, it’s not because she isn’t taking Kyoya seriously, or she hardly would have phrased it like that.

“Your coat will live to fulfill its intended purpose another day,” Kyoya says. “In any case, any advice you have on approaching this matter would be greatly appreciated.”

“Of course. I won’t be able to visit in person for a few weeks, but I’ll clear my schedule after that. Who else is aware of the anomaly?”

“Only myself and our newest club member, so far, but I don’t doubt Tamaki and the others will get caught up in it sooner or later. Given that it overran our club room, it’s only a matter of time.” If anything, he’s surprised the twins didn’t barge in while he and Haruhi were trying to find their way out.

“I see.” Kirijo-san is quiet for a few moments. “I can be there in three weeks’ time. If you learn anything else about this anomaly, or if anyone else gets caught up in it between now and then, please keep me informed. The clearer a picture we can form of this, the better – and I will not leave you without the support we sorely needed.”

“I appreciate it. I look forward to seeing you again.”

Pleasantries thus concluded, they end the call, and as Kyoya returns to his homework he finds it’s true – he _is_ looking forward to seeing Kirijo-san again. She was enjoyable company as well as a useful contact to cultivate, and he doubts that’s changed in the last few years.

***

“What’s this?”

Haruhi sighs, not sure whether to be more upset with the music room, for deciding now is the _perfect_ time to get all hamster-maze, or the twins, for popping up out of seemingly nowhere like they’re so fond of doing before Kyoya-senpai turned up. There’s no way to avoid explaining it now, and Haruhi’s still fuzzy enough on the details that the backup wouldn’t go amiss.

Kaoru approaches first, peering into the plastic-tube abyss over Haruhi’s shoulder. “Huh. I don’t know how we’re supposed to dress to match this one.”

“Really,” Hikaru adds. “What _was_ the boss thinking?”

“If he wanted to do a carnival theme—”

“—There has to be an easier way to do it than this.”

“Guys, it’s not…” Haruhi sighs again. (It’s probably going to be a recurring theme on the afternoon.) “This wasn’t Tamaki-senpai’s doing. I’m not sure if he even knows about it yet.”

“Then what is it?”

And of course, that’s when Kyoya-senpai gets there, acting for all the world like a hamster maze in the club room is nothing unusual. Then again, for all this isn’t a club function, a hamster maze isn’t that out of line with the usual extravagant decorations (other than the fact that it takes up several floors’ worth of space, and the monsters). “It’s a cognitive anomaly. I should have thought that was obvious. Haruhi, it appears we have work to do. Are you coming?”

“Damn right we are,” the twins say, before Haruhi can get a word in edgewise.

“I wasn’t asking you.” Kyoya-senpai adjusts his glasses, about as close to actually showing irritation as Haruhi’s ever seen him. “On the other hand, if you’re prepared for the challenges ahead, there’s no denying we could use the help. It’s Haruhi’s decision, though.”

It’s a choice that isn’t a choice. There’s no way Haruhi can keep going through this monster-filled maze fighting alone, it doesn’t seem like Kyoya-senpai will be doing more than recording and spouting back useful data any time soon, and it’s not like the club room being overrun by this… whatever this is was going to go unnoticed by the rest of the club indefinitely.

“They can come. But if we don’t find any mirrors, this is the _only_ time, got it?”

Kaoru steps around Haruhi and toward the maze’s entrance, grinning like the fiend he is. “It’s your lucky day, Haruhi.”

“We bring our own mirrors everywhere!” Hikaru finishes. Once they’re both in the maze, Kyoya-senpai rolls his eyes and waves Haruhi on ahead of him.

The second they run into trouble and the twins see what Igor and Kyoya-senpai have both informed Haruhi are rightfully called Personas, they want in on the action, because of course they do. Haruhi wonders if they realise, yet, they won’t be able to split one Persona between them – it’s just a hunch, but this doesn’t seem like the sort of thing that’d work that way – and how they’re going to react when that becomes apparent. Still, at least they’re doing what they can to help without any kind of magic, even though it isn’t much.

“It’s weird, though,” Kaoru says, as their fourth or fifth battle draws to a close and Haruhi focuses on breathing normally again.

“What’s weird?” Kyoya-senpai says, in a tone that suggests he already regrets asking.

“I could’ve sworn we were in a shoujo anime, not a video game.”

Hikaru shrugs. “There are video games with weirder plots. Who says it can’t be both?”

“What kind of person would try to have a JRPG and a dating sim at the _same time_ , though?”

It’s close to a minute before Haruhi manages to stop giggling.

Not too long after that – but still far too long, given the number of monsters they run across – they find a mirror. Haruhi had been half expecting two mirrors and half expecting what they got: one giant mirror blocking at least two possible paths forward, with yellow-eyed reflections of the twins and nothing else.

Hikaru and Kaoru stop in their tracks. “Oh,” they say in stereo. “Mirrors.”

“Yes, mirrors,” their reflections say, also in unison. (Haruhi sighs; this is going to get tiring fast, if they do the whole bit like this.)

Kaoru tilts his head to one side, frowning. “So how does this work, then? Talk to ourselves, get mystic powers?”

For some reason, probably one that only the twins will ever know, it’s Hikaru’s reflection that answers. “Something like that. Are you prepared to accept that you won’t be wholly identical forever?”

Hikaru bristles. “Of course we will. Close enough to fool everyone, anyway, and that’s all that matters.”

“Are you sure about that? Haruhi can already tell you apart.”

The twins react like they’d rehearsed it, gaping at the mirror before spinning around to stare at Haruhi. “You _what_?”

Haruhi shrugs. “It’s not that hard. Hikaru’s sharper in his mannerisms. Most people probably just don’t pay enough attention to see it.”

“Back to the matter at hand,” Kaoru’s reflection says, thankfully returning the twins’ attention to the mirror. “You already know this can’t last forever. The boss started pulling you out of your own little world, and she’s continuing it. Now you have a choice to make. Are you going to embrace your differences and learn to draw as much strength from them as you do from your similarities, or stay on the sidelines while it all turns into pumpkins around you?”

Haruhi has no idea what the pumpkin thing means, but it appears to mean something to Kaoru, at least. The twins have a conversation entirely in facial expressions before nodding to each other and stepping up to the mirror, reaching for what would probably look like each other’s reflections to most people. (Haruhi isn’t all that surprised that even their reflections would try to pull a prank on observers.) Even their Personas are mirror images of each other, in the glimpse Haruhi gets before they fade away.

With the mirror gone, Kyoya-senpai directs them down the left-hand path. Their first fight with Personas quickly shows that the twins fight together as smoothly as they do everything else together – but a couple cases of splash damage prove they’re each weak to the other’s magic, because of course they are. Still, it’s an interesting look into how they act without having to put on a show for the Host Club’s guests; there’s no time for their usual dramatics.

The path dead-ends at what looks like the cabin of an airplane, for some reason. Kyoya-senpai blocks the doorway, frowning; eventually he says, “It’s connected to the maze but not truly a part of it. Dealing with the plane is likely to require more energy than we have right now, so I suggest we retreat for the afternoon and come back another time.”

“Not a bad plan,” Haruhi says (but then, any plan that ends in a nap would sound like a good plan, right about now). “Why an airplane, though?”

“I don’t know. All I can say is that this area feels more… personal than the maze at large. I’d also like to double-check with my contact, but I believe such a specialized area may be outside her realm of experience.”

“You have a _contact_ for this?” the twins say, echoing Haruhi’s disbelief from the first time Kyoya-senpai brought it up.

“Apathy Syndrome was caused by a cognitive anomaly, not a medical one. She was instrumental in putting a stop to it. In any case, there’s a path nearby that will return us to the school. I suggest we take it before something else decides to ambush us.”

***

A couple days later, Houshakuji Renge sweeps into the club room, all the way from France, and declares that she’s going to marry Kyoya-senpai (who seems just as surprised by this news as everyone else, which is oddly comforting), and suddenly the airplane thing makes a lot more sense. Haruhi catches Kaoru’s eye; he nods, and nudges Hikaru’s shoulder, and the two of them manage to keep Kyoya-senpai from leaving when the rest of the club disbands.

“What is it?”

“I think Renge-san has something to do with the airplane,” Haruhi says. “It turned up right before she did, and something is seriously screwed up in that girl’s head.”

Kyoya-senpai nods. “I’d been wondering the same thing. I’m sure I could handle this ‘engagement’ she seems to believe will happen through normal means, but if we can take care of the matter without her disrupting the club’s standing, so much the better.”

“Of course you’re more worried about the club’s reputation than anything else.”

“That’s the shadow king for you,” the twins say without missing a beat. Haruhi wants to be surprised, or failing that, alarmed that both the Host Club’s daily business and this Persona stuff are beginning to make sense, but can’t quite get to either emotion.

“When do you want to go back in?” Hikaru says.

Haruhi sighs. “Not today. I haven’t tried to make the maze show up on purpose before, and I’d rather be sure she won’t come in halfway through the attempt. But we should deal with this as soon as we can.”

They all agree to a basic plan, but all the way home and for the rest of the evening, Haruhi can’t shake the feeling that it won’t be nearly that simple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The twins' Personas are Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, because Those Two Guys. Kaoru, being more level-headed, is Magician, while Hikaru is Chariot (a little more 'charge ahead without a plan'); dynamic and related Arcana that still let them be distinct from each other.
> 
> (I am not sticking solely to the first half of the majors for party members. What's the fun in that?)


End file.
